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When I returned from playing in New Zealand, I wanted to get some skates in at a local rink in Southern California, where lots of my friends played, and where I had grown up playing. I was about to leave for Europe a week and a half later. I remember being so stoked to be home, and although I was only home for a short period of time, I loved nothing more than seeing some of my old friends. Coming home, or playing hockey at random rinks where no one has seen you before (or in a long time), is always fun, because you get to talk about where you have played, how good you are, etc. Nothing gets me happier than talking about myself and where I have played, and of course how good I am..
It was a Thursday, or maybe it was a Tuesday? Or maybe it was a Wedsnesday? Well I guess it could have been anyday, except Sunday, it definitely was not a Sunday. I had arranged to meet up with some old friends, we were going to do the old Summer routine and go out to sticktime together, talk shit in the locker room, and grab something to eat afterwards.